


Clause 17f

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marriage Law Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ministry of Magic passes a Marriage Law, validated by the research of an unsuspecting Hermione Granger, who is now determined to see it overthrown and to escape the law herself. However, the only loophole she can find is in Clause 17f: All licensed courtesans are exempted. Can Hermione Granger bring herself to become a courtesan or will she have her want snapped?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clause 17f

A/N: My first HP fanfiction in many, many years.   
Warnings: This story will feature several pairings, and while the ultimate pairing is HG/DM, it will take some time to get there and there will be other rather important relationships. If you are seeking a purely Dramione fic I fear you might be disappointed, but I sincerely hope you will give this a try in any case.

Clause 17f

Chapter One

Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin Second Class, wasn’t used to losing things. In fact, she prided herself on keeping her personal workspace at the Ministry as organized and clutter free as she tried to keep her mind. More than once she had had visitors, namely Ron or Harry, step into her office and suck in a breath at the cleanliness of it, so unlike the other offices on this floor.   
The Department of Obscure Research and Artifact Recovery didn’t sound exciting to many wizards - Ron didn’t understand why she had chosen this over being an Auror; Harry still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she had turned down the chance to become an Unspeakable to become a junior researcher.  
But then, they didn’t understand really what exactly she did every day. They didn’t understand that Hermione not only chose what projects she worked on, but that her research in this department had been instrumental in developing treatments for the Cruciatus Curse, improving Wolfsbane, a handful of translation charms, and, her point of most pride, the development of the Theorem of Parallel Timeline Integration, which had promptly disappeared into the Department of Mysteries and about which she had been sworn to secrecy on pain of Obliviation by a trio of irritated looking Unspeakables.  
Of course, none of that mattered much to Hermione at the moment. What mattered to her was the report she had written six months ago on protective magics and transference to offspring. She had been inspired, of course, by the example of Harry Potter and his mother. But she had wondered, over the years, just how Lily had managed to protect Harry and if it was possible other witches - or wizards - had the ability to do the same. She had found that such ability, such magic, was in fact inherited - it was a genetic ability that seemed to come through much stronger on the maternal side, though she had found several documented cases of paternal inheritance during her research.  
No one had been very interested in the report - anything that hinted that the legend of Harry Potter was anything less than singular tended to get ignored - and her immediate supervisor had only briefly glanced at the report before handing it back to Hermione and suggesting she look into vampire migrations.  
Hermione had placed the report back in her filing cabinets and resolved to look at it again in a few months and see what kind of application such knowledge might have. And today was the day she had marked on her calendar to take another look at it.  
The trouble, of course, was that she couldn’t find it. She had practically ransacked her filing cabinets and there was no sign of it at all.  
It was late afternoon when she went to go see Head Researcher Daniels, and she wasn’t surprised to interrupt him as he was buttoning up his coat and preparing to leave for the day. It was only three, but it was Friday and Daniels was notorious for leaving as early as possible on Fridays.  
“Ah, Granger - got anything on those sacred lakes yet?”  
“Not yet, sir,” Hermione said.   
“Oh.” Daniels stopped buttoning his coat and frowned at her. “Then what is it?”  
“I actually wanted to ask about a report I showed you a few months ago - Protective Magics and Inheritance Probability?”  
Daniels frowned.  
“When did you show it to me?”  
“Six months ago.”  
Daniels snorted.  
“I’m afraid I don’t remember it, Granger. Why?”  
“I wondered if perhaps you had a copy - if…”  
“Did you give me a copy?”  
“No sir.”  
“Then I don’t have a copy.” He gave her a shrewd look. “Why?”  
Hermione flushed. She couldn’t very well admit to losing her work.   
“I simply wanted to check it against my own - just a bit of statistical anomaly I wanted to resolve in case your copy was in error,” she lied, thinking quickly. “But, as you don’t have a copy, there is nothing to resolve.”  
Daniels nodded.  
“Isn’t it your birthday today, Granger?” He asked.  
It would have been odd for him to know, but then, that morning’s edition of The Daily Prophet had had her face on the front page announcing her twenty-fifth birthday and asking the rather pointed question: When Will The Brightest Witch of Her Age Find a Wizard?  
“It is, sir,” she answered, fighting back another wave of anger as she saw the paper in his hand, as she looked at the photograph of her - taken at last year’s Ministry Ball, sitting alone and frowning. The photograph was completely out of context - she had had a date for the ball, a perfectly charming date that had resulted in a few months of fantastic sex before she and Alan Summers realized they had literally nothing to talk about when their clothes were on.   
“Well - why don’t you leave early today, eh? Go treat yourself - maybe go away somewhere nice for the weekend and try to meet someone!”  
Hermione fought very, very hard not to roll her eyes. Why did absolutely everyone - from The Daily Prophet to her boss think that Hermione would only be happy in a relationship with a wizard and believe that she was incapable of finding such a relationship?  
“Thank you sir,” she said instead of any number of things she wanted to say.  
She left him and returned to her own office and spent another two hours searching through it again. But by five that afternoon she was still unable to find it and knew that she needed to go home and change before going over to Harry’s for the not so much of a surprise Surprise Birthday Party that he and Ron were throwing for her. Ginny had thoughtfully warned her, since the last time Harry had thrown Ginny a surprise party she had shown up in jeans and an old Gryffindor jersey and been completed unprepared for the fancy dinner Harry had planned to take her out to.  
So, Hermione reluctantly gave up her search - at least until Monday - and floo’d home to change. Ginny had mentioned something about all of the old gang getting together and something about Harry’s recent purchase of a grill for his home at Godric’s Hollow. It was reasonable to assume, therefore, that it would be a casual evening and Hermione gratefully shed her work robes and heels and slipped into her favorite flats, a blue cotton sundress that would likely be packed away for the season and paired it with a gray beaded cardigan. She didn’t feel particularly inspired to tackle her hair, and so left it pulled back in the braid she usually pulled it into for work. A dash of lip gloss and she deemed herself suitable for her own surprise birthday party.

 

-o-

Harry seemed to have mastered the art of Muggle grilling, and seemed to delight in his role of ‘grill master’ as George had dubbed him. When Ginny had said all of the old gang were getting together, Hermione hadn’t realized just how many all meant. It seemed that nearly every member of Dumbledore’s Army was present for her birthday and a handful of the younger members of the Order.   
Hermione couldn’t remember the last time so many of them had been together, outside of official ministry functions such as the annual Ministry Ball or the fifth year commemoration of the Final Battle a few years ago.  
She was thrilled to spend time with so many of her friends, to drift from group to group and reminiscence together, to complain about work together, to learn what everyone had been up to since the last time she had seen them.   
By the time the second keg of Dragon Scale was nearly empty most of the party had drifted off, Apparating or flooing home, leaving just Ginny, Harry and Ron to finish off the ale.  
“Thank you,” Hermione said to Harry as the four of them sat under the large oak tree in his backyard. “This was a wonderful birthday party.”  
Harry smiled at her.  
“Better than an evening spent with Viktor Krum?” He asked.  
The Prophet article had suggested that Hermione try her best to rekindle one of her old flames - Viktor Krum, Harry Potter or even -  
“Nah, she’d rather be spending the night with Professor Vindictus Viridian, reading aloud to each other in front of the fire,” Ron teased and then grunted when Hermione kicked him.  
“I still can’t believe you dated him,” Ginny said. “He was… what? Twenty - thirty years older than you?”  
“He’s still twenty-seven years older than I am,” Hermione confessed. She had met Viridian at a conference four years ago, just before he began teaching at Hogwarts and just after her appointment as a junior researcher at the Ministry. They had dated for nearly two years, until Viridian had been offered the position of Headmaster at Salem Academy in America, and there were times when Hermione still wondered what her life would have been like if she had gone with him, as he had asked, instead of remaining here.  
“And honestly,” she said when she noticed their grimaces - none of them had understood why she had dated him in the first place - you don’t get to be a master of the dark arts at his age without becoming very… knowledgeable about all kinds of things.”  
As expected, both Harry and Ron screwed up their faces in disgust while Ginny laughed. The two witches had already spent many nights discussing Viridian, and even though Ginny was unnerved by the age difference she had been more than eager to hear details of Viridian’s many talents.  
Ron tried to hide a yawn and Hermione arched an eyebrow.  
“I assure you, it wasn’t in the least bit boring. This one time -”  
“Stop, stop!” Ron begged and held up his hands. “I’ve already had a nightmare of a week at work. Please don’t send me home thinking of you and that… that creepy old bloke.”  
“He wasn’t creepy or old,” Hermione muttered. Dark and mysterious yes, mature, yes. But not creepy and old.   
“Sure, sure. Anyway, I should get going. Have to go in to work tomorrow to deal with a few things,” he muttered and gave Harry a significant look.   
Harry nodded and sighed.  
“Yeah. I don’t envy you, mate. Let me know if you need to go out for a few rounds later on.”  
Ron snorted.  
“A few rounds?” He shook his head. “I’m going to need more than a few.”  
Ron got to his feet and Hermione stood as well.  
“I’ll walk down to the Appartition point with you,” she said. She turned to Harry and Ginny and hugged them. “This was wonderful, thank you,” she said into Harry’s shirt.  
He kissed the top of her head.  
“Anything for you - especially if it gives me an excuse to grill.”  
“See you next week,” Ginny said to her as they hugged, referring to the standing monthly tea date she, Luna and Hermione had at the Tea Room in Diagon Alley.  
As Hermione and Ron walked down to the Apparition point in the town center of Godric’s Hollow, Hermione couldn’t help but feel happy, her lost work forgotten, the Prophet insinuations at the back of her head.  
“Have a good birthday?” Ron asked.  
Hermione nodded and linked their arms together.  
“It was lovely. What was Harry talking about with you needing a few rounds after tomorrow?”  
Ron tensed.  
“Caught that, did you?”  
Hermione nodded.  
“Of course.”  
Ron sighed.  
“I can’t… it’s… you’ll find out soon enough.”  
His words were uncharacteristically cryptic but Hermione took in the set of his jaw, the serious expression in his blue eyes and she let it drop.  
When they reached the Apparition point he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her lightly on the lips.  
“Happy Birthday, Hermione.”  
She just caught herself from leaning into the kiss and instead stood up straighter and smiled back at him.  
“Thank you.”  
They had tried, just after the war, had tried very, very hard to make things work and had failed very, very spectacularly. It turned out that seven years of bickering wasn’t simply unresolved sexual tension. They truly did fight all of the time, and being a couple only gave them more things to fight about. In the end, after two years of fighting, they had decided that being friends was the only thing they could be and stay sane.  
When Hermione arrived back at her flat that night she still felt that glow of happiness, no doubt aided by the Dragon Scale, and she went to bed smiling, thinking that turning twenty-five hadn’t been bad at all, and really, maybe this next year would simply be more exciting than the twenty-four before it.  
Of course, when she went to bed with that thought in her mind she couldn’t possibly have known just how fleeting it would be. She couldn’t possibly have known that when she woke up the next morning, a little hung-over, a little less glowy and happy because of it, she would put on a pot of coffee and look at her copy of the Prophet, at the headline: Ministry Passes Marriage Law and feel her entire world come collapsing down. She couldn’t possibly know, as she went to bed on the night of her twenty-fifth birthday, that the Ministry of Magic had passed the Magical Continuity Act late on Friday, hoping that it would go unnoticed in the Saturday edition of the Prophet or that, at the very least, they wouldn’t be bombarded with owls until Monday when the full text of the law would be released to the public.


End file.
